New Thoughts (09/27/12-09/29/12)
There are two seeming problems presented by this passage which, while I would not count them as terribly important as concerns the importance of what is said, are potentials for distraction. As such, let’s deal with them and be disposed of them.
The first issue is that this account does not appear to jibe with Luke’s record of events over in Acts 1:18-19. As a parenthetical point in explaining why Peter was looking to identify a new twelfth apostle, Luke reports on the death of Judas. “This man acquired a field with the price of his wickedness,” says Luke. But, didn’t Matthew just say that the priests decided to buy that field with the money Judas had been paid? Well, let’s consider, first of all, what distinction there is in the terms used for this activity. Matthew says they bought the field. Here, the term is eegorasan [59]: to purchase, as one would at the market. It can also refer to redemption, as the price paid to obtain freedom, but that hardly suits the occasion. Luke uses the word ekteesato [2932]: to gain or procure for oneself. In other contexts, that same term is used regarding obtaining a wife. Admittedly, in many cultures that may well involve a payment of sorts, but it’s not the marketplace concept.
Why stress the choice of words? Because it indicates that Luke may have been writing more metaphorically. It was indeed ‘the price of his wickedness’ which paid for that field, albeit from the hand of another. And, it became his field in as much as it was the place he died. It is not said whether he was also buried there, but if the field was set as a burial place for strangers, and Judas was not a local, it’s not unthinkable that this would be the case. So, what, then, did his wickedness get him? A gruesome death, and a dismal grave. That would seem to be the thrust of Luke’s comment. He also points to the fact that this suicide was widely known to the folk of the city, though the reason for it may not have been. The reason hardly mattered in that regard. It was a bloody field, and it was known as such henceforth. Who would want such a parcel of land? Why not allow it to go for a cemetery plot?
So, in this regard, although the two witnesses relate the event differently, they need not be construed as being at odds with one another; just focused on a different aspect. Matthew’s concern (as ours will shortly be) is more with the priests than with the betrayer. That concern has no place in the account Luke is giving, since the focus is clearly on the apostles at that point, and what goes on at temple is of diminishing importance.
I know one article had suggested that Judas may have had some previous agreement to purchase the field. If this is the case, it certainly has no testimony to back it. The theory goes that he had agreed to purchase this plot of land as a new homestead for himself and his family, and that the priests honored that intended purchase, turning it over for a burial ground. That just adds a completely unnecessary layer of difficulty over what is not so difficult a situation. If anything, the proposed explanation would seem to create more problems for the two texts than it resolves.
The second issue one may be inclined to take with Matthew’s account is that he attributes the prophecy he quotes to Jeremiah. However, the quote seems clearly to be drawn from Zechariah. Indeed, both the NASB and the ESV list only Zechariah as the source. However, Fausset’s points out that Zechariah was most likely building upon Jeremiah’s work in that quote, and points us to a couple of passages from Jeremiah to back the claim. Let us consider. The first passage indicates is Jeremiah 18:1-2, wherein the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah, instructing him to go to the potter’s house, where He would announce His words to Jeremiah. The second passage is Jeremiah 32:6-12, a longer bit. “The word of the Lord came to me: ‘Hanamel ben Shallum your uncle is coming to advise you to buy his field in Anathoth, as you have right of redemption.’ His son indeed came as the Lord was saying, asking that I buy this field for myself, so I knew this was the word of the Lord, and I bought that field, paying him seventeen silver shekels. I signed the deed before witnesses, and weighed out the silver. I then took the deed, both a sealed copy and one open, and gave them to Baruch in the presence of those witnesses.”
Well, if Zechariah was building on those two passages, I am at a loss to see how. The potter is mentioned in relation to his workplace, not a field of clay from which he gained his material, and the point of that scene at the potter’s wheel is to give visual representation of God’s right and power to do as He pleases with His creation. And, that second passage is demonstrative of strong faith as to Israel’s future. The instruction given to Baruch in the subsequent verses tell him to bury the deeds in a vessel fit for long storage. This was a matter of preserving the documents. Oh, it might be a goodly while before Jeremiah could make use of the land he had bought, but the time would come. Chaldea might subject the nation for years on end, but an end to the exile would come.
Zechariah’s message, by contrast, is one of punishment being meted out against those false shepherds who had led God’s people into such an awful apostasy. It’s a pronouncement of ruin. Notice what precedes. “I shall no longer have pity on them” (Zech 11:6). I pastured the doomed flock (v7), I annihilated their shepherds (v8), I refused to continue pasturing them, leaving them to die (v9). In verse 10, he makes it plain: I am breaking covenant with you. This is the setting that leads to what is presented by Matthew. If it suits you, pay me. If not, fine. And they did, and he threw that money to the potter who was there in the house of the Lord.
Why, then, would Matthew assign this passage to Jeremiah? I’m not certain I have a satisfying answer to that question. Does it undermine the inerrancy of Scripture to suggest that he simply misattributes the passage? Or, ought we indeed to find Zechariah’s message more connected to Jeremiah’s than appears plainly? Honestly, I find it very difficult to find that connection between the prophets. The imagery differs, the purpose differs, and in Zechariah’s case, it seems God is clearly orchestrating a specific set of events for His prophet to perform. Is it an issue for inerrancy? That is a much harder question for me to answer. I am inclined to say that it is not, but I confess the greater part of that inclination is a begging of the question. Since Scripture is inerrant, clearly this is not an issue in that regard. But, I’m at a loss to explain why. At the same time, I am willing to accept that my understanding is quite probably incomplete. There may very well be a very clear and cogent explanation for Matthew’s apparent lapse here that I am quite simply unaware of. It might be that were I to pore through all that has been written about this passage, I might come upon an answer. But, it is of insufficient concern to me to expend that much energy. The quote itself is accurate enough, even if the attribution is wrong. And the eerily accurate portrayal of the events which ensued upon Judas’ death are clear. The point is made, and God’s accuracy stands unchallenged.
I wish to make one further observation before I turn to what strikes me as the main point for consideration. As concerns Judas, I had turned to Nelson’s for some background. I just need to state that much of what I saw declared as necessarily true and obvious concerning Judas, and Jesus having chosen this man for one of His disciples seems to have completely missed the mark. The article suggests, for example, that Jesus must have seen something of value in Judas to have chosen him. There is, I suppose, some long shot outside chance that this is the case. However, it seems to me that John makes clear that Jesus was aware at an early stage that not all of the twelve were to be trusted. “One of you is a devil.” That is not what we might consider a ringing endorsement.
Are we to suppose that Jesus, being fully God, was somehow deficient in His assessments of men? Is He not the one who knew what was in the hearts of men? Was He not fully aware that there was a betrayer amongst His closest companions? Indeed, isn’t it clear that He knew not only this, but also, which of those men it was? No. The correct understanding of this matter of Judas being chosen lies in the explanation which Matthew propounds for so many of the events he reports. “This all took place to fulfill what the Lord spoke through the prophet” (Mt 1:22). That, it might be said, is the summation of Jesus. It is short of the full significance, being as it does not directly mention salvation. But, if one is aware of the things spoken through the prophet, and of that Lord Who backs those words, then salvation is there to be seen. So, too, is this betrayal. So, too, the manner of His dying to save us. The whole record of the Gospel is laid out by God’s spokesmen across the centuries leading up to Jesus, even as He is spoken of everywhere by those who have come to Him since.
It was, and is, necessarily the case that God’s Word stands. What He has stated is true. What He has pointed out must come, must come. It must come for no more essential reason than that He said so. He has that power. Creator that He is, He assuredly has the right to direct Creation. There was the point of Jeremiah’s vision of the potter’s wheel. There is the basis for Paul’s writings concerning God’s making some vessels for glory and others for destruction. We must needs bear in mind that it is this same omniscient, omnipotent God Who, in the Person of His Son, chose from out of all Israel those twelve men who would accompany Him in His mission. He Who spoke all creation into existence, He Who knows the hearts of men, He Who, as Paul indicates, creates the Providential circumstances of our lives so as to present us with good deeds to be done; He is the one who selected Judas. It was no accident, no misperception, no recognition of some latent potential in the man. It was the necessary ingredient for the fulfillment of God’s Word. Therefore, however repugnant the man and however treacherous, he must be selected and given access so that he might work his evil. One must be lost. God had decreed. One was selected for the purpose of being lost. No less his guilt for that fact, but neither any reflection on the knowledge Jesus had of His own.
I do, however, particularly like this summation that Fausset offers for the man. “All he purchased with the reward of iniquity was the bloody field of his burial.” Has there ever been a more accurate rendering of sin’s result? All that one ever purchases by iniquitous means is a similar end. No, not every sinner, or even the majority, will commit what would appear to be suicide. Yet, every sinner is, by the very act of sinning, doing just that: committing suicide. Sin is suicidal by its very nature. It can have no other result but death, and that death, however swift its arrival may seem to earthly eyes, is as much a matter of eternity as is the life of the believer. The portion of that life or death which we spend in these earthly tents of flesh is but the least, most insignificant fragment. Paul saw this. It is thus that he speaks of how the pains and sorrows of this life are as nothing when set beside what lies in store for eternity.
For the believer, this is our story and we do well to not simply understand it, but to truly internalize it. This life is but a moment. For all that it has our attention, it is really of no account given what is our birthright in heaven. We have an inheritance that cannot fade, that never goes to probate, that the government cannot tax nor the thief steal away. It is backed by that very same, eternally unchanging and wholly trustworthy God Who was and is and ever shall be! This is the understanding that gives strength to the martyrs. This is an understanding which is, I fear, sorely lacking from the church today. Oh, we know it. We understand the words. We can parse Paul’s exposition. But, like Martha, we have a hard time when it comes to really believing it, really allowing all the implications of that knowledge to drive our behavior.
Here’s the flip side, though: For the unbeliever, the sinner, the same thing holds. Whatever gains may have been had in this life, whatever profits and pleasures sin has provided a man, they are as nothing when weighed against what lies ahead for eternity. Esau is set as prime example for us, he who traded away his birthright for the fleeting pleasure of a bowl of stew. This is the bargain sin ever lays out for us. Here is pleasure for a moment. Give no thought for tomorrow. Enjoy today. Sin, I dare say, is the broodmare of advertising. Just do it! You’ll feel better. You’ll look better. You’ll be more popular, if that’s your thing. But, nothing is said of the end result. Eternity awaits, friend, whether for blessing or for cursing. The deadly cost of sin does not cease in the funeral parlor. It does not even cease when worm and germ have done their work upon the corpse interred. No fire of cremation can purge the soul of that anguish which lies in wait. No. There will be an eternity in which to come to grips with what was lost in exchange for that briefest moment of enjoyment. But, there will be no further opportunity to repent. There will be, as there was for Judas, only the remorse of finally realizing what one has done, and at what horrendous cost.
With that, I would turn myself back to those who strike me as being of even greater concern in this passage, the priests and elders. Judas, I think, we could feel sorry for. But, these men, the purported spiritual leaders of their age? They set themselves beyond our capacity for sympathy. That may not speak well of us, I suppose, as we represent the One whose compassion penetrates even to the most despicable of sinners. But, really: Here are those whose primary function in life is to promote and safeguard the spiritual health of God’s most favored nation. And here, on their doorstep, is a man struck by the full force of his sin. Granted, they have had their hand in his temptation, share responsibility for his sin themselves. But Judas has come to them, it would seem, in their official capacity. He sees what he has done. He is at least remorseful for his actions. If ever there was a man needed some path to peace with God, here he is. And, what is their response to his cry for intercession with a God quite rightly angry? “How is this our business? It’s your guilt. You deal with it.”
“What is that to us?” What a terrible, terrible thing for any representative of God to say! Of course, these representatives have shown repeatedly that they are in violation of that authority which was vested in them. The very fact that they financed Judas’ treachery is evidence. The things about Jesus that have offended them have long since shown the nature of their piety. All form and no function. Their primary concern, in the discharge of their office, is not to see that God is properly represented and His people cared for. Their primary concern, their sole concern, is for their prestige and what they mistakenly perceive as their power. The flimsy nature of their power would become clear soon enough, and their prestige would fade from history with shocking speed. And ahead lay eternity.
I find it striking, the two bits of comment we have from these men in the current passage. First, there is this response to the repentant sinner: “What has this got to do with us?” Then, there is the great concern as to what they should do with the money. Consider this in all its implications. The Living Bible actually does rather a nice job of making the full stench of their thought evident. “We can't put it in the collection,” they said, “since it's against our laws to accept money paid for murder.” Well, what about the matter of having paid that money for murder? Isn’t that rather a breach of law, as well? This is stunning really. How can these men come so bluntly at this point about what is lawful to put into the treasury and yet fail so completely to assess their culpability for violating the law they purported to uphold?
Well, there are a couple of explanations I could offer. The first is that these men, despite their position, had no real sense of religion at all. Oh, they enjoyed the rites and ceremonies, and they certainly enjoyed the prestige. But, really, it’s all just empty mythology that keeps the people happy. We must be careful, of course, to observe the niceties, like this business of what’s acceptable for donations. But, there’s nothing to it, other than our offices. That’s one possibility, and it’s a likely one, I think. But, there is another, and it is one that ought concern us more. What if it’s a simple matter of human nature? It is, after all, easy enough to demark the sin we see in those around us, and most of them provide us ample opportunity for such observations. But, when it comes to ourselves, we tend to develop a blind spot.
Could it be that this is what we are seeing? Could it be that, while they can see the sin in Judas for taking this assignment, or the sinful nature of the money, given its use, they cannot see their own sinfulness? I agree, it’s hard to believe they could be so lacking in awareness. It’s hard to believe that they could have gone through such machinations as this without some sense that their actions were less than exemplary. And, it is clear enough from the record that they were not that unaware. Or is it? Certainly, we have evidence that they feared public reaction. But, then, they held the public’s opinion in disdain. What do they know, all these unwashed commoners? Did they study with Hillel? Have they the training and heritage that we have? They can be fearsome in their ignorant reactions, but they hardly constitute the voice of conscience for these men.
It is just possible, I think, that they were indeed blinded to their own sin. It is a disease familiar to the human condition, that we find our own faults more readily in others than in ourselves. In some cases, we may recognize that what bothers us is that they serve as mirror to our own state, and force us to realize what we think of those who do as we do, when it is not us doing the doing. Of course, since it’s us, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for our actions. There are extenuating circumstances, and surely God will not mind. Indeed, will He not bless our wisdom in allowing some flexibility in that law in this case?
For all that concern they show regarding the treasury, though, the telling thing remains their response to Judas. They have all sorts of time to deal with ritual and form. But, here is one whose moral state is desperate, and here they are, the shepherds to this poor sheep, and they care nothing about what becomes of him. You are overwhelmed with guilt? So what. You’ve done your part for us. Deal with the consequences yourself. Seek out your own forgiveness. We can’t be bothered to bring your case to God today. And frankly, if they were capable of truth, they would have to confess that they were hardly fit to present God’s case to Judas. How could they explain a God they don’t know? How could they teach of a forgiveness that eluded them? What council could they provide the repentant, who knew no remorse for their own sins? As I said, all form and no function.
And, then I must ask, what of us? What of me? It is very easy for us to slide into that same mode. We go to church. We serve on this committee and that. We say grace at our meals. We do all those things we are pretty sure we’re supposed to be doing. But, what of the function? What of faith? Have we allowed this to become little more than an intellectual pursuit, when it comes to study? Is it really having an impact on our character, on our core? When I worship is it worship, or just music? For all that, I would reverse the sequence: When I really enjoy music is it because I appreciate God’s esthetic, or am I the judge?
It is a challenging perspective. I have been reading from Table Talk in recent days about God’s standards of beauty and how these ought to inform our art, particularly as applied to the activities of His house. Architecture, music, prose and poetry: all comes under His measure. All is to be measured by His definition of what is good and lovely and true. But, if our concern for these things is all about form, then we have a problem. If we are so concerned, for example, about the complexity of the song or its simplicity, that we fail to take into account how that song is serving God’s people, our concern has become misplaced.
If a simple song leads the congregation deeper into God’s truth, then let the simple song serve. If the complex song yields an appreciation for God’s glory, then let the complex song resound. The purpose, in all of this, is to glorify God and to edify His people, to move them closer to maturity. Simple or complex really does not matter in this regard. Classical or contemporary isn’t the deciding factor. I actually rather like the point I saw made last week: Every song was contemporary at some point. And, yes, there are things that pass for music in every genre which are trite at best, noise at worst. I dare say we must include the religious genre in that. But, what of function? Is it promoting a true and honest worship of God? Is it nurturing the soul of the Christian who hears it? Does it draw us to consideration of our Lord and Savior? Then let it serve!
That is, however, something of a distraction from the real issue. The real issue is that of the heart. Yes, they are quite right who point out that the only way to influence the heart is through the mind, but they are also quite right who point out that we are very much inclined to stop at the mind and leave the heart untouched. All form. We have an appreciation for religion, and for the Bible. We may even have an appreciation of sorts for God. But, it doesn’t impact us. It doesn’t change us. It’s just another language we’ve learned.
You know, back in High School we studied a second language, most of us; perhaps it was Spanish, perhaps French, maybe some other language. In my case, it was French. But, learning what bit I did of the French language did not produce any change of my sense of self. I did not suddenly find myself with an allegiance to France, or to Canada. I did not develop a fondness for some new cuisine or take to having wine with my meals. I did not perceive my world any differently for having the form of this new language. It had no function in me.
Religion can, and too often does, have the same minimal impact. I was, for example, diligently sent off to Sunday School each week throughout my youth. I’ve still got the little medals to prove it. But, attendance did not equate to moral fiber. I was off to youth group every week, but more often than not, looking for the opportunity to nip out back and smoke some weed. All form, no function. At least, as it could be measured in any immediate terms. It took a very long time for God to break through my forms. Well, in reality it took Him no time at all. He was just waiting until the time was right. And then, it was like TNT going off in my spirit.
Yet, over the years, that fiery enthusiasm of new belief settles into something almost rote. We have learned the ropes. We have become comfortable in the routines of Christian life. Be careful! It is so easy for us to slip into just going through the motions. It is so easy, even in these times of morning study, to just focus on getting the task done; just wanting to be able to tick off that checkbox on the daily schedule so I can move on to the next thing. It’s easy – very easy – to sit hear and type merrily away while avoiding any urge to really look to my own estate. It’s easy to use this time to avoid praying, rather than to encourage a real conversation with God. And that, I think, is my deepest concern coming out of this passage.
Holy Lord in heaven, it is easy enough to pick on the villains in this record of the Gospel. It is very easy to spot the flaws in the priests and elders of that day, and certainly easy to see the guilt of Judas. But, You did not set them in the record for us to revile. You set them in the record that we might recognize ourselves more clearly, that we might be aware just how easily we can slip into that same mold, fall into the same sins. God, I am deeply concerned that I could very easily become one of these functionless formulists, ever so pleased with my ability to handle Scripture, and even to teach others, yet wholly incapable of teaching myself. Let this not be! Oh, God, move upon me, reawaken that youthful fervor. Let these concerns be more than concerns, but the seeds of real change. I would not have it that my prayers be empty things which I would prefer You not answer. I don’t wish to discover that I have become that street-corner Pharisee seeking only to be seen as doing all the right things. I need You, Lord. I need Your constant reminder that I have nothing of which to boast except You. I need You making me keenly aware of Your presence with me at all times, for I am too swift to forget. God, let me not hear from You what Judas heard from these sad shepherds, “See to that yourself!” No, I have no fear that You would thus dismiss me, yet I do fear that I earn such a dismissal as often as not. It is well for me that You are faithful. Help me, then, to mature as I ought, and to set aside these besetting habits and sins.
